All The Little Things
by Insane and Knows It
Summary: A series of oneshots, written with Bria Nicole and all centered around one thing- the amazing band Marianas Trench. Please R&R
1. Broken Glass, Shattered Heart

_**I'm not really sure if this is a Girl/Matt friendship fic, or a Girl/Josh heartbreak fic. But it's awesome anyway, so whatever. XD  
><strong>__**Disclaimer: Marianas Trench are not men from my imagination, nor are they bound and gagged in my closet, without any clothes. So, yeah. Unfortunately, I don't own them. They're not mine.  
>(But how fucking amazing would it be if they were?)<strong>_  
><em><strong>Warnings: Possible Language, Drunk Mike, and Some Broken Glass. Enjoy! :)<strong>_

The sound of shattering glass echoed around in my head as Josh stormed from the room, slamming doors and cursing under his breath. I took a deep breath, trying hard not to cry as I crawled over to the broken remains of the photograph. My heart split into even more pieces then the glass when I realized which picture it was:

It was our wedding photo.

A shard of glass cut into my arm as I looked at the torn picture, but I brushed it off without much regard for the pain. Honestly, a cinderblock could've fallen on my face, and it would still hurt less then the pain in my chest. As carefully as I could, I picked up the shards of the picture frame, managing to throw them out without cutting myself again. I walked back over to the photo, picking the pieces up gently. It was only torn twice, leaving it in four pieces, but I still wasn't sure what to do with it. Really, what was the point in keeping a torn photo?

After a few more minutes of contemplating, I tossed the photo aside without much care. Josh ripped it, Josh could deal with it. I stared at the pieces as they fluttered to the floor, a few tears running down my face. Standing there, I subconsciously ran through the past few minutes in my head, finally beginning to cry as I ran from the house and into the rain.

It was freezing outside, lightning lighting up the sky every few seconds. I ignored the cold, only focusing on trying to get myself to stop crying.

I walked up the road for a while, my boots slowly filling with water. Finally, when my fingers were almost numb and I couldn't take another step, I collapsed onto the curb, exhaustion getting the better of me. Tears mixing with rain, I pulled my phone from my pocket, ad quickly dialed, unable to spend anymore time in the rain.

Luckily, my call was picked up almost instantly. "Hello?"

"M-Matt? It's me."

"Quinn? What's wrong? Are you crying?"

"It's J-Josh." I sniffled.

"Are you okay?"

"Not really. Do-do you think you could come pick me up?"

"Of course. You're at home?"

"Um, no. I'm several blocks away from home. D-down the street from the beach."

"WHAT? Quinn, it's raining. And midnight."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize. I'm sorry your husband is such an asshole."

I smiled slightly. "Me too."

There was some commotion on the other line, an I heard Matt say, "Mike, let go of me. I have to go get Quinn."

I blinked, but before I could say anything, Mike slurred, "Can I come?"

"What?" Matt said.

"I don't want you to leave me."

"But-"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

Matt sighed, and his attention returned to the phone. "Quinn, do you-"

"What the hell is Mike doing at your house?" I asked.

"He is DRUNK."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. He just showed up at my house like that. I couldn't let him leave, but _wow_. He is a very clingy drunk. And he keeps calling me 'Matty'...

I managed to laugh through my tears.

"Anyway," Matt said, "I'll be there as fast as I can. And I'll have Mike with me."

"Thank you," I whispered, before hanging up.

Matt, possibly the nicest most awesome mam on the face of the Earth, found me in minutes. He pulled up to the curb and jumped out of the car. "There you are." He smiled at me. "Care for a lift?"

"Very much." I took Matt's extended hand, and stood up. He helped me into the car, following suit and jumping in behind the wheel.

As soon as we entered the car, Mike sat up in the back seat, leaning forward so he was between Matt and I. He looked at me. "Hi."

"Hi."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fighting with Josh."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew."

As we drove, Matt decided it would be best if I spent the night at his house. I protested, not wanting to impose, but I was also ignored.

Once we got there, Matt barely managed to stagger through the door before he passed out.

Matt shut the door before stepping over him. "Just ignore him."

Together, we made our way to the living room, where Matt sat down and pulled me into his lap. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," I said, laying my head against his chest.

"You can stay with me as long as you need to," he told me.

"Thanks," I sighed.

We sat in silence for a while, me drawing comfort from just being with him, until I drifted to sleep. My rest was fitful, my dreams haunted my shattered glass and torn pictures.

_**Tada! I know Mike has absolutely no purpose, but I was bored. :D**_


	2. All For Love

**_This wonderful story is not mine, but Bria's.  
>So...yeah. <em>**

I remember when we found out we were gonna be parents.

Mike jumped up and down in the elevator.

See...We'd been together for seven years.

I hadn't been able to get pregnant once.

But then again, we'd been warned that I could die having a baby.

But we still tried and tried.

Mike wrapped his arms around me,"We're gonna have a baby. A beautiful baby."

I giggled and pecked his lips. "That we are Mikey."

I, Fiona Annemarie Ayley, was gonna risk my own life for my husband's happiness.

Mike always wanted a baby.

He was upset when he found out it was deadly for me.

I didn't want to see him upset, so I paid thousands to get pregnant.

As my stomach got bigger, Mike got happier.

I didn't complain once about the constant pain I was in.

He was too happy to notice.

I wish he would have.

He was more excited when he found out we were having a girl.

I still didn't admit to any of my constant pain.

I was honestly starting to resent my baby.

My own baby.

I chose her name.

Imogen Elizabeth Grace Ayley.

When it came time for Imogen to be born, Mike was on tour.

Her birth was unplanned.

The pain was unbearable.

But I still went down into the basement to do laundry.

I fell down the stairs.

I laid there, in more pain imaginable, and gave birth.

I called Mike and he got a ambulance.

Imogen didn't cry.

Not once.

All the resentment I had towards my little girl was gone.

I wanted to hear her cry.

As soon as I knew she was okay, I blacked out.

I heard Mike screaming my name and Imogen bawling her eyes out.

I wasn't gonna die.

I was gonna fight.

But as I fought, I slipped into a coma.

When I awoke, a one year old Imogen and a very tired looking Mike were right by my side.

Mike set Imogen down and kissed me franticly, "Fiona...They told me to give up..I never did."

I opened my mouth and everything I felt while pregnant spilled out.

Now I sit here two years later.

Imogen's three and I'm eight months pregnant.

I will risk everything I have for my true love.

**_*Applause*_**


	3. Love, Mae

Dear Ian,

If you're reading this, that really sucks for me, because it means I'm dead. I don't want to say it sucks for you, because I don't know if my death affects you at all, but I'm going to say it does, because I'm awesome. Was. Was awesome. No, am. Just because I'm dead, doesn't mean I'm any less awesome.

I wrote this letter originally when we found out I had cancer. Not because it was certain that I was going to die, but because there was so much I had to tell you, and there the chance I might never get to. Turns out I was being pretty smart writing this, eh? (Oh yeah, I went there. I'm a proud dead Canadian.)

I want to apologize in case I left you with any pain or sadness or anything. But, as my final request, I have to ask that you put aside those feelings, and just keep on living. Just because I'm dead, doesn't mean you have to be. Just don't forget about me. NEVER forget about me.  
>Because I'm awesome, remember?<p>

When I was told I had cancer, I honestly thought I was going to outlive it. I had faith in the chemotherapy (even though it stole most of my hair and made me adopt a hat), and my stubborn-ness. But, if you're reading this, I was dead-wrong wasn't I? So, before I completely disappear, why not put this letter to good use? I'm sorry I wasn't alive to tell you in person, but Cancer's A Bitch.

The first thing I have to tell you, is: do you remember that time that we were hanging out at Stanley Park, and you walked into a total of like seven poles? I didn't laugh, but that was HILARIOUS.

Next, I lied. You can't play the glokenshpiel. (If that's even what it's called... Either way, you can't play it.)

Number three, I'm sorry, but neon orange is not your colour.

Number Four..._I_ broke your iPod. Not Josh. I'm very sorry.

Now, lastly and most importantly:

I am (even in the afterlife) totally, insanely, stupidly, awesomely (because that's the only way I do things- awesomely) in love with you.

I'm sorry I never got the chance to tell you, and I'm sorry I never got to see your reaction. I'm sorry you had to find out through a letter, and I'm sorry I didn't live to hear your response. But you had to find out somehow, because this was one secret I couldn't take to the grave.

I'm sorry I had to leave, but I'm sure I miss you like crazy.

Say hi (or good-bye) to the guys for me, and I will see you in a couple of years. (My final request was that you live. If I see you too soon, I will hit you in the face.)

Love Always,  
>Mae :)<br>XoXo


End file.
